


What If?

by weeping_angel_2spooky



Category: Celtic Mythology, Greek and Roman Mythology, Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-02-25 09:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2616047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weeping_angel_2spooky/pseuds/weeping_angel_2spooky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fall of a girl, the rise of a mermaid, the blunder of a pirate...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Everyone has a what if feeling. That moment that makes you question where you would be if you didn’t do that thing, go to that place, meet that person. Everyone has a what if. Some people know exactly what moment that feeling is from. Others only know the insatiable fear, the unquenchable longing, of knowing things could be different. I’m one of those who are lucky [cursed] enough to know exactly what that moment is. 

My what if, was the fall.

They say that if ‘you fall as Lucifer fell, you fall from grace’. Although I have been led to believe that perhaps it is the other way round. My fall was not grand or dramatic. No great explosions or fiery infernos. My fall was a tumble, a surrender to the greatest of the four. My fall was a splash.

If you are to understand my story, you must first understand that not all we see is truth, and not all we know is true. There is a thin line, a veil, that makes all the wonder and magic in the world, even more wonderful and magical. 

If this were any other tale I would start from the beginning, from the ashes. I would tell you of a young orphaned princess and her evil uncle, for isn’t that how all fairytales begin. But this is not a fairytale of fantasy, more a non-fictional tale of fairies. And as every reader knows: stories don’t end on the last page, no more than they begin on the first. So let us begin our tale, not on the first page, yet not quite in the middle. Let me tell you a story that begins one third of the way in…


	2. Chapter 2

Any good pirate knows the ways of the sea. And any traveller of the sea knows the ways of a pirate. To keep on traveling the watery path, and to continue to breathe the salty air one must respect the wishes and ways of old. Some may call them superstitions and nothing more then old-wives-tales meant to curb a young child’s inquisitive mind, but those who make their homes on the endless waves, these pirates, they know the true ways, the truth. One should never underestimate the unknown watery depths, one should always remember that the sea knows best. 

Pirates live by a simple code. Many folk are quick to label them as mindless beasts plagued by an unquenchable bloodlust. But the true nature of a pirate is a simple one. A thief they may be. Savage they may seem. As quick with their blade as they are with their wit. They sail under the crimson flag of freedom, the pitch black-skull emblazoned cloth of promise. They give their enemies no quarter and take what they want. They live by their own rules for that is truly the best form of all. They care not for the pettiness of everyday mundane folk, they care only for their brothers who rock besides them on the waves. They stand besides one another through the endless nights and the consequential days; for they may be thieves, but is it not true that among thieves there is honour. 

 

The ebony stillness of the night sky could be seen reflected on the unnatural calm of the sea. A silent simple beast of a ship, cut through the nonexistent waves. The ship itself was of no impressive size, one could go so far as to call it a ship of usual normality. It boasted three sails, only one of which remained unfurled. Three distorted shadows ambled around the deck, a further five lay below swaddled in a dreamless sleep. Three sets of shrewd eyes peered into the darkness casting their gaze around the great expanse of the sea. It was a silent night and any pirate knew that if there was anything worthy of their fear; it was a night with no moon. 

Tonight was one such night. 

The routine wandering patrol of the deck was a common activity. Every night three men would remain at all times above deck, their unwavering eyes trained on the unmoving sea. It was often a boring past time with nothing even remotely exciting ever happening. It was commonplace for one to come from below with the intent to relieve his shipmate, only to find that brother slumped against a wooden plank or swaddled by a retracted sail — their eyes fluttering as sleep beckoned them. This apparent incompetence would surely be frowned upon on any other vessel but not this one. No this band of eight pirates were confident in their ways, in each other, and in the sea. They knew the ways of the ocean and had no place for meaningless worry; as a result nightly patrol duties were often littered with a healthy dose of naps. Why worry away the night and stare forever into the monotonous lull of gentle waves? Nothing every happened under the vigilance of the moon, at least not out here, out here surrounded by the protective blanket of the deep sea. One day in the not too distance future the (questionably) good Captain of this mighty vessel, will look back at this philosophy and sigh a great sigh. He will bemoan the simpler times. The simple times when nothing even remotely interesting happened after the moon replaced the sun in the sky. His mama always did say that ‘nothing ever happens until it does’… 

There was no obvious sign of anything remotely strange happening. The sea remained still and night remained moonless and the ship remained upright. But those aboard the great ship knew that something was amiss. They could feel the sensation travelling up their sea legs and settling in the pit of their rum-lined bellies. The tallest and broadest of the three settled his weathered hand on the the hilt of his blade. His eyes flickering between his two companions before roaming across the expanse of the sea. A great hush seemed to have fallen. Not the silence that had previously settled, but a great inaudible noise. Something was happening. Something had happened. The gentle balance of the sea was disturbed.The sea-weathered man knew not what had happened only that something had. He didn’t know why but he had the distinct feeling that the something was magical and wonderful. His heavy strides took him to stand behind the great wheel of his ship. He wrapped one strong hand around it and gripped tightly. His two ship mates looked back at him. Each of them shifting uneasily, hands tightly gripping their weapons hilt. The captain gave his men a short curt nod before returning his sharp gaze to the sea. Not a moment later, he heard it, the unmistakable sound of a splash.

Across the sea and around the globe. She fell.


	3. Chapter 3

Three Months Later 

 

Sunrise found the Sea Wytch’s Captain Nathaniel Taylor bent over a roughly-drawn map, his bushy eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. His shrewd eyes traced the faint outlines on the weathered scroll as his mind desperately scrambled for a solution. The Sea Wytch and her crew had been stranded in this small cove for the past two days. They were boxed in by sharp cliffs on three sides and the vast ocean on the fourth, only this particular vast ocean was currently home to numerous Navy patrols. The pirate band had managed to sneak their way into the cove under the cover of night but now found themselves quite unable to get out. It was this small over-sight that had Captain Taylor rubbing at his temples in such a persistent way. 

“We could always try waitin’ for ‘em to go away.”

Captain Taylor looked up from his insistent pondering and saw his Quartermaster, Lancelot Wilson, looking expectantly at him with weary eyes that matched his own.

“We don’t know how long they’re gonna be out there for. We could be waiting for moons to come. No! I refuse to stay cowering in ‘ere just because some fancy-assed officers and their precious lil’ ships decided now was the time for a bleedin’ patrol…”

The Quartermaster heaved a fondly exasperated sigh and resigned himself to ‘suffering’ through another of the Captain’s famed rants. Everyone back home in the Creed knew about Captain Nathaniel Taylor’s tendency to bellow on and on about the most petty of things.

“… We got in ‘ere just fine and we will bloody well get out again. I just need time to figure out some sorta plan. Why they gotta be here now. These water’s supposed to be clear for the next bleedin’ month why in the seven hells did they choose now of all times. Stick to the damn schedule that’s what’s it’s there for,”

“Remind me again why came here in the first place?”

The Captain looked up and fixed Lancelot Wilson with his most irked of stares before deciding it best to simply ignore the man. Looking back down at the map he once again began tracing the faint lines as his brain scrambled for even the most basic resemblance of a plan. 

“Captain!”

Nathaniel looked up to see Lancelot peering through the spyglass, the lens sweeping over the entrance to the cove and the gathered ships beyond that.

“What?!” The Captain replied gruffly,

“It’s the ships Captain… they’re manoeuvring,”

“What the bleedin’ hell are you talking about?”

Nathaniel lumbered forward and snatched the spyglass out of Lancelot’s hands setting it to his own eye. As his gaze adjusted he focused on the strange sight in front of him. The Navy patrols had gathered together and were slowly shifting into what the pirate could only guess to be some sort of ‘fancy formation’.

“What are they doing?” he muttered, 

Beside him the Quartermaster shrugged, his own eyes squinted in an effort to make some sense of the blurry shapes moving around. Through the circle of the lens the Captain watched as the collected ships moved once again. This time they seemed to fall into line behind the flag ship — a great big Man-O-War adorned with numerous sails and topped with the King’s colours. The lead ship moved off and the remains of the pesky Navy patrol followed. All the ships disappearing into the distant sea accompanied by the pounding of signal drums and the great collective confusion of the assembled pirates. 

“They’re gone. What. Why the ever-loving hell are they gone?” The Captain bellowed, throwing the spyglass on top of his maps,

“Thought that’s what we wanted,” The Quartermaster replied, a faint smile tugging on his lips

Nathaniel gave his second a long suffering-resigned look before spinning on his heel and marching to the helm of his ship. He gripped the weathered wood and gazed down at his crew, confused yet tentative delight mirrored on all their faces. He felt Lancelot move to stand besides him, his shoulder a comforting press against his own. Letting a puff of breath pass his lips he easily slipped into his ‘Captain’ persona.

“Well lads, seemed like the crawler’s have gone.”

 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“So where did they go?”

Nathaniel and Lancelot had retired down to the Captain’s cabin and were currently huddled together as they listened to the celebrations from above.

“I don’t know,” Lancelot replied, “but I don’t like it.”

“A whole fleet of ‘em when there’s supposed to be none. And now they just scramble off. It ain’t natural. Something ‘appened alright,”

“Normally I’d call ya paranoid…”

“I am not paranoid!”

“Of course not Nathaniel,” Lancelot offered his captain a wry smile before his face fell again, “but you’re right. Crawler’s acting like that - it ain’t natural”

“Something’s up that’s for sure. And the sea. She don’t feel right, feels restless.”

The two sea-men shared a long look. This was far from their first journey and both thought of the sea as their own, their home. As such they prided themselves on their judgements of the sea, and it was this very skill that gave the Sea Wytch her damning reputation. Both men could feel the unease of the sea; the way just rolled just a little off rhythm, the way she lapped at the ship, a bit too insistent (almost like trying to warn them of some impending something). Whatever the reason, the sea had the two pirates shifting uneasily for it the sea was feeling like this, well that couldn’t be good for anyone. 

“I don’t like it, we need to get outta here”

“What should I tell them men”

“Anchors aweigh”


	4. Chapter 4

It was three days later when the Sea Wytch’s crew finally caught sight of their original destination. The port of Pounine could be seen tucked away in the arms of the cascading valleys. Pounine was often thought of as a half-way house for travellers of the sea; it boasted an impressive array of merchant shops able to outfit your ship and your person, as well as a seemingly endless flow of rum with a generous splashing of ale in the ever-popular tavern, The Blue Lady. 

The Sea Wytch had been prowling the waters for five months now, with only limited stops to satisfy basic needs — which unfortunately did not extend to the more primal urges of pleasure. As such it was the promise of the second Pouninian amenity that had Captain Taylor’s crew blundering up and down the ship deck as they frantically prepared the ship for docking. 

The Captain himself could be seen stationed besides his Quartermaster at the helm. He held the weathered wood loosely in his hand as he expertly manoeuvred his ship toward the docks. 

“How long we givin’ ‘em this time?” Lancelot asked shifting about on the deck,

Nathaniel gave his second a pointed look at his excessive restlessness, “we’ll see. The boys deserve a break. We been on the waves awhile now.”

Lancelot made sure to exaggerate his movements even more as he gave a nod at his Captain’s words. Nathaniel continued to glare at him, but soon gave up and shifted his gaze to the quickly approaching docks, missing Lancelot’s smug grin besides him.

§§§

After the ship had been properly docked and the anchor had been lowered, the Captain stood on the deck as he watched his men scamper off towards the amassed buildings. He followed after them at a much more laboured pace as he made his way towards where Lancelot was talking to an ageing man. 

Lancelot nodded his thanks to the port-master before turning to Nathaniel, “it’s all taken care of. She’ll be looked after until we’re ready to head off again.”

“Good, good. She deserves a rest as much as any of us”

“So where to Captain?”

“Where d’ya think?”

Lancelot shook his head in amusement as he proceeded to follow the other man into town and the inevitable destination of The Blue Lady. 

 

As the two men walked through the winding streets of Pounine, they felt comforted by the fact that it had not changed one bit. Men such as them, were all too familiar with change, so it was comforting to know that out here, on this tiny green speck in a mass of blue, things were always constant; everything was just so. However, nothing would be as comforting as the sight that now lay before them. The Captain and his Quartermaster both came to a halt in front of the rickety wooden steps that led to a weathered blue door, all that marked the entrance to Pounine’s most loved establishment.

Inside The Blue Lady, groups of men and women could be seen gathered together talking, drinking and making merry. This tavern had always been the heart of Pounine, with its scuffed wooden floors, games tables scattered around and the long counter on the far side wall — behind which Lithia herself was pouring drinks and bemusedly listening to the ramblings of drunken men. 

The two pirates made their way through the throngs of people, before clambering onto a stool by the bar. Lancelot cast his gaze around the establishment as Nathaniel leaned forwards over the bar, one arm outstretched as he fumbled for his prize. He let a smug grin cross his face as his fingers wrapped around the unmistakable shape of the bottle, twisting his wrist so he could extract the object from its place. The Captain’s pillaging effort was brought to an abrupt end by a quick sharp pain across his hand. 

“Oi, ya slapped me…oh” He trailed off, as he looked up and saw the smirking face of Lithia, one elegant eyebrow raised in bemusement, 

“Oh indeed,” Lithia remarked, “you never could pull that off Nathaniel.”

Choosing to ignore the woman’s mocking remarks, Nathaniel instead turned a pointed glare at Lancelot, “fat lot of good you did.”

“What? Oh was I supposed to be look out, how silly of me for forgetting. Won’t happen again.”

Grumbling Nathaniel turned away from his Quartermaster, who was looking far too amused, and trained his glare on the barkeep instead. 

“And that glare never worked either,” Lithia said shaking her head in amusement, “what can I get you Lancelot?”

Nathaniel’s grumbled protests went ignored as Lithia placed a filled glass in front of Lancelot, who in turn swallowed down half in one.  
 “What about me?” Nathaniel asked, tired of being ignored,

“Oh I’m sorry did you want something?” LIthia asked, “I thought you were just here to annoy me and try to liberate me of my wares.”

The Captain opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it. Instead falling back on his long-standing method of glaring. Lithia laughed at his efforts, but soon took pity on the man and presented him with an ale. 

“So how’s business Lithia?” Lancelot asked as she leaned against the bar; content to leave the drunken ramblers alone for a moment so she could enjoy some time with old friends.

“Same old, same old. Crews coming in and out, taking my stocks and leaving their coins. Had a few travellers come in a month ago. Must ‘ave been mighty lost, took one look at my customers and promptly left.”

Lancelot chuckled. It wasn’t uncommon to have some traveller find themselves on their shores and being promptly overwhelmed by the whole of Pounine. And that was before they even realised they were in a pirate port — the poor souls never stood a chance. 

“Heard anything from the Creed?” Nathaniel asked,

Lithia sighed, “no, nothing yet. Although everyone here’s talking about it.”

“They all felt it then?” Lancelot asked,

“Felt it, heard about it. Doesn’t matter. But by now the whole sea’s gotta know; even the Crawlers are actin’ strange,”   
“And the Creed’s doing nothing,”

“There’s nothing they can do. They don’t know any more than us.”

“Well they gonna ‘ave to do something soon, before people get scared and start searching for themselves.”

“Aye, a restless pirate’s never good.”

The three of them sat in silence after that. Each of them drinking from their glass as they let the noises of the tavern wash over them. The inactivity of the Creed just confirmed the pirates suspicions: no one knew what had happened. The sea had been disturbed, had tried to warn her travellers, but no one knew what her message meant. 

Nathaniel looked up as Lithia broke their hush, “you felt it, didn’t you?”

“Aye,”

“What was it like?”

The Captain looked between his two drinking mates, before casting his gaze around the room. Relinquishing his firm grip on his tankard, he ran a tired hand down his face. 

“It was… it was something. Something wonderful. Something magical.”


	5. Chapter 5

The skies outside The Blue Lady were darkening as the gathered pirate crowds started to leave. The dwindling crowds were a testament to the great uneasiness felt by all the pirates, usually dusk would bring great fire torches, and even bigger barrels of rum. But not now, now all of Pounine’s inhabitants were aware of the seas unrest. As such, they all left the favoured tavern, until only three figures remained silhouetted inside. 

Lithia gave one last wipe across the bar with her soaked cloth before tossing it behind her and making her way back to the two men, “come on you lot. Let’s get you to bed.”

Both men grunted as they wearily stood up and followed Lithia through a wooden archway and into a courtyard. The small patch of grass in the middle was perfectly lined with the space in the roof above and it was lined on all four sides by a cobbled path framed with flowers. Lithia led them across the bed of green and towards a once-black door on the other side. Passing inside, the three of them visibly relaxed as they comfortably made their way around Lithia’s rooms and towards where the smell of fresh cooking beckoned them. 

At the end of the hall was a small quintessential kitchen, with its long wooden table, fire wood stove and assortment of herbs hanging from the ceiling. By the stove, stirring a delicious smelling pot, stood a young lady; her blonde hair piled on top of her head and a stained apron tied over her dark blue dress. Lithia crept up behind the girl and wrapped her arms around her waist, hooking her chin over her shoulder. The girl visibly relaxed as she leaned back into the embrace as Lithia pressed a kiss to her neck.

“Smells good.” 

Lithia glared at Nathaniel as he interrupted the peace, “must you always be talking?”

“Part of my charm.”

The three others laughed at Nathaniel’s smug face as Lithia released her hold and moved to sit by Lancelot at the table. Deciding to test his luck again, Nathaniel reached forward, aiming to dip one finger in the cooking pot. As with before, just as he passed the pot’s brim a loud smack resonated around the small room, as a wooden spoon descended on his hand with all the force the girl could muster. Nathaniel let out a yelp as he cradled his reddened hand to his chest casting his all-encompassing glare over his laughing friends. The woman herself was brandishing the spoon, amusement flickering across her lips which accompanied a raised eyebrow that bore an eerie resemblance to Lithia’s own. 

“You too Étienne,” the Captain grumbled as he dropped into a chair by the table, “I swear y’all out to get me.”

“Oh of course we are dear,” Étienne replied as she resumed her stance at the stove, “now make yourself useful and fetch us some bowls.”

“But… but I just sat down. Ask ‘em.”

“Now, now Nathaniel, don’t complain. Just do as the nice lady says,” Lancelot snickered

“Oi. You just remember who’s the Captain ‘ere!”

“Well we’re not on the ship now are we.”

Seeing that he wouldn’t get any support from his Quartermaster he stood up and blundered over to where the bowls were stacked, before roughly grabbing four and dropping them back on the table. Lithia had also procured a bottle and was pouring generously into each goblet. Lancelot brought over the great pot and Étienne ladled the stew into bowls. 

The four friends sat around the wooden table, heads huddled together as they ate in the sort of comfortable silence only possible among the oldest and dearest of friends. 

 

Étienne and Lithia stood by their bedroom window looking out over their small domain. The men had retired to their claimed beds and the two of them were now left alone with their troubling thoughts. 

“I don’t like it” Étienne whispered, “not knowing… it’s strange.”

Lithia gave a small noise of agreement, “The Creed will deal with it, they always do.”

“That’s the trouble though isn’t it. It’s happened before…”

“Not for ages now—”

“I know that but… what if it is the same. That would mean it’s starting again.”

“I don’t know what will happen, but we have to trust in the Creed. These somethings always come about, we just have to deal with them when they do, besides we’ve got the big strong Captain Nathaniel Taylor to protect us”

Étienne turned in her lovers arms laughing, “is that supposed to reassure me. That blundering idiot can’t even beat a wooden spoon.”

“He is a good Captain though, as much as it pains me to admit it”

Étienne made a noise of assent before letting out a small sigh and leaning close to whisper “now can we please stop talking about that bleedin’ pirate.”

Lithia smiled against her lips before dragging her love away from the moonlit window and towards the comfort of their bed. 

 

—

 

Far across the deep cascade of blue, an abode rests in the lengthened shadow of Pounine. A spark ignites in the mind of a young maiden wrapped in white. The soft comfort of the sea swaddles her as she drifts down to its bed; the travelling burn down her throat matched by the imprint of her binds. As the norm dictates, a small singing current drifts out from the figure, winding its way from her flaming breast into the dark depths of the sea. The marked ripple continues its path until it comes to rest among those who came before her. The end of the ribbon marked by the flaming brand on the innermost stone. A direct shot up would reveal a towering rock breaking through the waves, upon which flickers the amassed silhouettes of fallen women.


	6. Chapter 6

Daylight found the pirate port basking in the full rays of the sun as it’s inhabitants fumbled around its streets as they began their daily duties. The crew of the Sea Wytch were quickly soaking up the last few moments of pleasure as they waited for their Captain to summon them back to their watery home. As such, the Blue Lady was filled to bursting with the pirate crew as they revelled in the endless flow of rum and stumbled upstairs to partake in other physical pleasures. 

As such, Lithia was busy keeping each tankard overflowing while Étienne rallied her girls together and levelled a waning-stare at each pirate who approached her brothel doors. Étienne always enjoyed these rushed scrambles for a last-minute moment of pleasure as it never failed to bring a smile to her face when she bore witness to a blundering pirate following after her graceful girls. 

“Étienne!”

Étienne was brought out of her musing as she turned to see the Quartermaster Wilson striding down the wooden corridor towards her. She smiled at the pirate as he came to a stop, leaning against the balcony rail besides her, 

“And what can I do for the great Lancelot Wilson today?”

“Oh darling, the pleasure of your company is all I require”

“Oh you poor poor thing. The sea must be an oh-so-lonely place.”

“Indeed…”   
Étienne shifted to look at him, noting how the amusement in his eyes quickly dimmed to a worry that was all-too familiar. It seemed that the confused restlessness of the sea was taking its toll on all of her inhabitants, sparing not a single soul.

“Lancelot?”

“I’m sorry Étienne, it’s just…”

“The sea.”

Lancelot nodded with a sad smile, “I’m just worried you know?”

“I think everyone is. Things are calm and peaceful and I don’t want it to change… I couldn’t bear it. You’re worried it’s like last time aren’t you?”

“Isn’t everyone. Rationally I know we’ll be fine, we always are. But… I always though it was a legend”   
“History becomes legend…”

“When did you get so wise,” Lancelot laughed,

Étienne offered him a blinding smile in return, “I’ve always been wise I’ll have you know. But truly Lancelot, It will be fine. The Creed will guide us and we will protect each other. It’s what we’ve always done — we look after our own.”

Lancelot sighed “I suppose you’re right” 

“I always am!”   
Laughing, Lancelot swept Étienne into a hug and pressed a kiss to her hair. She relaxed into his arms and leaned against his chest, content to lend comfort to her troubled friend. 

“Come now. We’ll be leaving soon, can’t keep the Captain waiting”

Étienne accepted the offered arm and with a quick glance at the brothel doors she allowed herself to be swept along towards the pirate crowds. 

 

The Captain and Lithia stood on the docks as they oversaw the crew loading up the Sea Wytch. Nathaniel had hoped to allow his men a longer stay in Pounine, but the uneasy feeling was making him eager to reach the Creed and the hopeful promise of answers.

“You going straight to the Creed?” Lithia asked offering her flask of rum to the Captain,

Nathaniel shook his head before taking a swing, “we’ll stop at the Cove first. Hopefully the Commander can tell us something about what the bleedin’ hell is going on.”

Lithia smiled at him as she reclaimed her flask, “think he’ll know anything?”

“At this point, I don’t think anyone does. Best we can hope for is some strategic guessing.”

“Ah yes, strategic guessing: the pirate way” Lithia laughed.

Nathaniel shoved his friend good-heartedly as he turned his attention back to his ship. He had taken the liberty to stock her up, both ammunition and supplies, and Lithia had generously given him several of the barrels from the Blue Lady’s cellar, so his crew were now hauling the wooden crates on board before securely stowing them in the hold. 

Even though the short stay had done much to bolster the morale of the Sea Wytch’s crew, Captain Taylor knew it would not last long. As such he was eager to get under way quickly while the sea was still calm and their minds clear and joyful. 

Nathaniel nodded at Lithia before setting off down the docks. He paced up and down the length of the pier, his shrewd eyes cataloguing each detail of his ship to make sure she was prepared for the sea. Lost in thought, he almost missed the sound of approaching footsteps as his Quartermaster approach and came to a stop on his left. 

“She ready?”

Nathaniel grunted in reply as he scrutinised a small section of the hull that had been badly damaged a week earlier. Pounine had some of the best ship-makers in the Creed but Nathaniel was resolute in remaining dubious about any work done on his ship that wasn’t supervised by himself. His sweeping stare was unable to detect any fault in the repaired hull, forcing the Captain to nod in grudging acceptance,

“She’ll do.”

Lancelot laughed at his Captain’s words before clapping him on the shoulder to turn him away from the ship and directing him towards where Étienne had joined Lithia. 

“So what’s the verdict. Is she up to the Captain’s standards?” Étienne asked

“Well excuse me for not wanting to sink on the way to the Cove,”

Lithia’s lips twisted into a smirk, “Now now Nathaniel no need to get so excited. We all know you’re a good Captain.”

“Ungrateful little…”

Lancelot shook his head at his Captain before bumping him aside scooping up Lithia in a crushing hug, “Thank you again for everything.”

“Anytime.”

“You’re always welcome here,” Étienne said as she released Lancelot from her embrace.

Nathaniel grumbled as he too said farewell to the girls but there was smile in his eyes that betrayed his indifferent persona. He turned to follow Lancelot onto the boat but was stopped by a hand around his wrist. He looked up and met Lithia’s eyes, and understanding passed between them. Lithia waited for a responding nod before stretching up to place a kiss upon his cheek, smiling at her dear friend she released her grasp and watched as he strode off towards his ship. 

Étienne turned to her remaining companion with a questioning look, “what was that?”

Lithia shook her head in reply, “nothing to worry about my dear. Let’s go home.”

Étienne looked unconvinced but allowed Lithia to give her a chaste kiss before taking her hand and leading her away from the docks and into the depths of Pounine towards the sanctuary of the Blue Lady.


	7. Chapter 7

The girl woke slowly. Her eyelashes casting shadows on her pale cheeks as she fought through her dulled senses and gradually blinked her eyes open. What the girl was able to see only added to her confused state as she scrambled through her mind for some memory of what had happened. Her memory was fragmented but she could recall a great commotion followed by a resounding splash. She remembered falling, sinking, but she couldn’t remember stopping; all she could remember was endless floating through the deep blue. 

She let out a quiet gasp, one starved of breath, as she remembered a flash of pain. Burning pain travelling down her throat and into the pit of her belly where it seemed to swirl around before shooting up again to settle, blazing, in her throat. It was like nothing that she had ever felt before; agony matched only by the searing binding pain around her ankles, her wrists. 

That thought sent her mind crashing to the surface as she acknowledged the throbbing dull ache that had now replaced that pain. Her heartbeat raced as she recalled the endless fall, the blinding pain, the knowledge now, that it was real. Tossing her head, she desperately looked around for some clue, some help, but there was nothing; just her, laying helplessly on a bed in a strange room. 

The girl heard her pulse pounding in her ears as there was a sound from behind the door. Her eyes widened in fear as the door opened and a blurred figure entered. The person approached her bed slowly before noting the girls wide open eyes. 

As though the words were travelling through water, the girl heard a muffled female voice, 

“So, you’re awake.”

 

—

 

Kanonkop was the closest Cove to Pounine, but it still took the Sea Wytch a day to reach her shores. The Captain expertly steered his ship into port and once she was safely docked he nodded to his men. Acknowledging their Captain’s signal, the crew of the Sea Wytch quickly scurried down the walkway making their way up the pier and into the heart of the town. Not knowing how long they would spend here, the men were eager to return to their families and spend what precious time they could with them before their Captain once again summoned them to the waves. 

Shaking his head in amusement at his men’s eagerness, Captain Taylor turned to his Quartermaster who had remained behind with him. 

“Shall we?”

Lancelot glanced around the ship. Finding nothing amiss he nodded to Nathaniel, “After you.”

 

Nathaniel and Lancelot walked through the winding streets of Kanonkop making their way towards the home of their Cove’s commander. They walked close, heads huddled together, as confidence and reassuring words passed between each brother. Kanonkop proved a stark contrast to what Pounine had been reduced to. Where the port was positively dull and subdued, the Cove remained its usual loud exciting self. The two pirates were forced to walk in an erratic path to be able to move through the dense crowds. 

As they left the town they fell into comfortable silence as they made their way up the long winding dirt path, which led up to the summit of the cliff that overlooked the town. The house was situated on the cliff with is long white wooden balcony spanning across its length providing the perfect vantage point over the crystal blue sea. It’s impressive size marked it apart from the other houses of smaller stature making it the perfect abode for the Cove’s commander. 

Upon reaching the house the two pirates climbed the three creaking steps before knocking on the aged red door. There was the sound of fumbling from inside before the door swung open and they were greeted by the warm friendly face of Edwin Corsac, the unofficial caretaker of the Commander’s land, and by extension the entirety of the Cove. Everyone in Kanonkop had fond memories of the old man from throughout their life as he seemed to have always been here and no one could imagine life in the Cove without his aged face and sparkling eyes. 

“Edwin!” Nathaniel exclaimed moving to envelope the man in a bear-hug,

“Oh, Nathaniel my dear boy it’s been too long,” Edwin chuckled, “and you Lancelot, I see you hiding there.”

Lancelot laughed moving out from the shadow of the doorway and pushing past Nathaniel to claim his own hug. He sighed contently in the shelter of Edwin’s arms as the overwhelming sense of calm and reassurance washed over him. 

“And how have you two been. Still up to the same nonsense?”

“Ah, Edwin,” Lancelot said, “it’s impossible to be nonsense-free with this one as your Cap’n.”

Nathaniel tuned towards him gaping, “I’ll be sure to remember ya said that next time we’re divvying up the loot.”

Edwin shook his head amusedly as he watch the two pirates engage in one of their famed ‘battle’ of wits. He had watched these two boys grow up together, always in step with one another as they conquered every hurdle life threw at them; unwavering faith, as each trusted the other the way only those who have chosen to bond as brothers could. However, looking at the two of them now, Edwin could tell that something truly was amiss. The mischievous spark that was usually ever-present in their eyes was now dulled as uncertainty took its place. It seemed that whatever had upset the Commander so was no less worrisome to these two pirates. Cursing, once again, the fates who always seemed to torment the peace, Edwin sighed; 

“I suppose you’re here to see the Commander about all this nasty business?”

“I’m afraid so Edwin. Things ain’t right…”

“Hmmm… I had feared as much. Folks have come and gone but no one can say anything for sure. I don’t suppose you two have any answers?”

Lancelot shared a look with his Captain. He trusted the old man, but he was unwillingly to voice his own fears without any proof. He was sure dangerous times were coming and the sadness in Nathaniel’s eyes only made him more fearful of what that danger and ever-present something was. 

Edwin noticed the marked silence that passed between the two men. His cracked lips formed a perfect ‘o’ as the suffocating fear settled over him too, “ah… I see. Well then, no use dallying on the doorstep; get in here. Come, come I’ll take you straight to the Commander.”

With one last look at the Quartermaster, Nathaniel followed Edwin inside and made his way across the darkened wood, the resounding thump of their matched footsteps echoing around the hall.


End file.
